Добірка наукової літератури з теми "Bernard Purdie"

Being a chairman and professor of physiology in Breslau/Wroclaw till 1850, Jan Evangelista Purkinje (1797-1869) made many crucial discoveries/experiments with the new advanced microscopy and histology techniques. He established the first institute of the physiology of the world (1839) and founded the basic principles and framework of cellular physiology (protoplasmic concept) both in plant and animal tissues. Purkine discovered and described (first in Polish, 1839) the extensive terminal network of the cardiac conduction system. Its paradigmatic discovery was presented in the last two 15-page German article in 1845, which was immediately translated into English by Sir William Withey Gull (1816-1880), an extraordinary physician to the queen and Prince of Wales. In 1837, he made his other famous discovery of Purkine cells, a giant flak-shaped nerve cell forming the middle layer of the cerebellum. His combination of physical, chemical, and microscopic observations made him the father of modern experimental physiology and predecessor of the legendary French scientist/biologist, Claude Bernard (1813-1878). Purkinje as a Czech and Slav patriot advocated cultural collaboration of Slav nations and promoted understanding between the nations of the Habsburg monarchy. His life and personality is also an inspiration on how to be a truly humanistic European and yet, a highly responsible, convinced patriot. He was a pioneer of the Czech medical language. His achievements are possibly best documented by this rhyme of Goethe: „…and should you fail to understand let Purkinje give you a hand.” True also for our times (cit by Zarsky).

Background and Aims. There are several experimental evidences for the effects of high-diluted substances (see e.g. C. Taddei-Ferretti, A. Cotugno 1997, on effects of high-diluted drugs on the prevention and control of mice teratogenicity induced by purine derivatives; N.C. Sukul, C. Taddei-Ferretti, S.P. Sinha Babu, A. De, B. Nandi, A. Sukul, R. Dutta-Nag 2000, on high-diluted Nux vomica countering alcohol-induced loss of righting reflex in toads). Also the physical characterization and mechanism of action of high-diluted drugs have been studied (see e.g. N.C. Sukul, A. Sukul, High dilution effects: Physical and biochemical basis 2004). However, further experimental researches are needed to clarify how physical characteristics of a drug are linked to its global biological effects. Considerations on some high-diluted mineral remedies will be developer here. Methods. In Organon, sect. 119, S. Hahnemann writes: «As certainly each species of plants is different from every other one with regard to external appearance, way of life and growth, taste and smell, and as certainly each mineral, each salt is different from the others with regard to external, internal, physical and chemical qualities [...], so certainly all these vegetal and mineral substances have pathogenetic – and thus also curative – effects different among themselves [...]». This statement may be taken as basis for considering the characteristics of some elements, as ordered in the periodic table, in relation to those of some high-diluted mineral remedies. Conclusions. The elements were previously ordered in the periodic table according to the atomic weight chemically determined, and later more precisely according to the atomic number (number of protons). Then also the electronic configuration was taken into account: properties depending on atomic mass and deep electrons are not periodical, while chemical and several physical properties are linked to external electrons which have periodical configuration. In particular, let us consider the group of elements C, P, S, Cl and the group of elements Ca, Mg, K, Na. One may conclude that the four elements of the first group (respectively receiver-or-donor of 4 electrons, receiver of 3, of 2, of 1 electron), which, according to H. Bernard, are linked to the fixed human constitutions, are close among themselves in the periodic table, while they are very distant from the four elements of the second group (respectively donor of 2, of 2, of 1, of 1 electron), which are close among themselves and are linked to the changing constitutional stages.

Abstract Introduction Chimeric antigen receptor T cell (CAR-T) expansion has been consistently identified as a predictor of clinical response. However, there are no clinically available test to measure CAR-T presence after infusion for the FDA approved CAR-T therapy. We hypothesize that the lymphocyte expansion which can be readily measured as absolute lymphocyte count (ALC) in blood count differential could be a clinically accessible surrogate for CAR-T expansion in patients who receive FDA approved CD19 CAR-T to treat aggressive B-cell non-Hodgkin lymphoma (NHL). We examined the ALC levels in the first 2 weeks after CAR-T infusion and correlation with clinical outcomes in NHL patients who received CAR-T at our institution. Methods Records were reviewed for patients who received CAR-T between 6/2016 and 1/2021 at Mayo Clinic, Rochester. CAR+ T cells were identified by flow cytometry using an anti-FMC63 antibody. Receiver operator curve was generated using nominal logistic regression to predict complete response (CR) as best response. Progression-free survival and overall survival were calculated using Kaplan-Meier method and between-group differences were assessed using log-rank test. Continuous variables were compared using wilcoxon text and categorical variables were compared using chi-square test. Results Among the 87 patients who received CAR-T for NHL, majority of the pts received axicabtagene ciloleucel (86, 99%). The highest ALC level (ALC peak) in the first 15 days were identified for all patients and median ALC peak was 0.44 X10 9/L (range, 0 - 2.55x10 9/L). The median time to ALC peak was 10 ±3 days. Increasing ALC peak levels correlated with increased CAR+ T cells in blood measured by flow cytometry (n=16, R=0.63, p=0.0008). Using ROC analysis, an ALC peak level of 0.67 was identified as the cut point for best association with CR (AUC=0.68, p=0.0004). Baseline demographics were similar between the high ALC peak (N=35) and low ALC peak (N=52) groups, as shown in Table 1. There was no difference in the incidence, high grade, or duration of cytokine release syndrome (CRS) and immune effector associated neurotoxicity syndrome (ICANS) between the two groups (Table 2). Patients who received a higher cumulative dose of steroid for management of CRS and ICANS had lower ALC peak. A higher ALC peak was associated with an increased CR rate and durable CR at month 6. Similarly, a higher ALC peak was associated with increased progression-free survival (PFS, 6.4 months vs. 2.7 months, p=0.004) and overall survival (OS, 31 months vs. 12 months, p=0.04), as shown in figure 1. Conclusion Given the typical CAR-T expansion seen in the first 2 weeks post infusion, ALC peak in the first 15 days is a clinically accessible, reliable surrogate for CAR-T expansion and predicts durable CR and longer PFS, OS. This study was supported in part by the Mayo Clinic Center for Individualized Medicine, Bernard E. and Edith B. Waterman, Henry J. Predolin Foundation and other generous benefactors of Mayo Clinic. Figure 1 Figure 1. Disclosures Bennani: Verastem: Other: Advisory Board; Purdue Pharma: Other: Advisory Board; Daichii Sankyo Inc: Other: Advisory Board; Kyowa Kirin: Other: Advisory Board; Vividion: Other: Advisory Board; Kymera: Other: Advisory Board. Paludo: Karyopharm: Research Funding. Wang: Genentech: Research Funding; Eli Lilly: Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; LOXO Oncology: Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees, Research Funding; MorphoSys: Research Funding; InnoCare: Research Funding; Incyte: Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees, Research Funding; Novartis: Research Funding; TG Therapeutics: Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees. Ansell: Bristol Myers Squibb, ADC Therapeutics, Seattle Genetics, Regeneron, Affimed, AI Therapeutics, Pfizer, Trillium and Takeda: Research Funding. Lin: Janssen: Consultancy, Research Funding; Legend: Consultancy; Bluebird Bio: Consultancy, Research Funding; Celgene: Consultancy, Research Funding; Vineti: Consultancy; Gamida Cell: Consultancy; Kite, a Gilead Company: Consultancy, Research Funding; Novartis: Consultancy; Takeda: Research Funding; Merck: Research Funding; Sorrento: Consultancy; Juno: Consultancy.

Anthony Esler. The Human Venture. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1986. Volume I: The Great Enterprise, a World History to 1500. Pp. xii, 340. Volume II: The Globe Encompassed, A World History since 1500. Pp. xii, 399. Paper, $20.95 each. Review by Teddy J. Uldricks of the University of North Carolina at Asheville. H. Stuart Hughes and James Wilkinson. Contemporary Europe: A History. Englewood Clifffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1987. Sixth edition. Pp. xiii, 615. Cloth, $35.33. Review by Harry E. Wade of East Texas State University. Ellen K. Rothman. Hands and Hearts: A History of Courtship in America. Cambridge and London: Harvard University Press, 1987. Pp. xi, 370. Paper, $8.95. Review by Mary Jane Capozzoli of Warren County Community College. Bernard Lewis, ed. Islam: from the Prophet Muhammad to the Capture of Constantinople. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 1987. Volume I: Politics and War. Pp.xxxvii, 226. Paper, $9.95. Volume II: Religion and Society. Pp. xxxix, 310. Paper, $10.95. Review by Calvin H. Allen, Jr. of The School of the Ozarks. Michael Stanford. The Nature of Historical Knowledge. New York: Basil Blackwell, 1986. Pp. vii, 196. Cloth, $45.00; paper, $14.95. Review by Michael J. Salevouris of Webster University. David Stricklin and Rebecca Sharpless, eds. The Past Meets The Present: Essays On Oral History. Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 1988. Pp. 151. Paper, $11.50. Review by Jacob L. Susskind of The Pennsylvania State University. Peter N. Stearns. World History: Patterns of Change and Continuity. New York: Harper and row, 1987. Pp. viii, 598. Paper, $27.00; Theodore H. Von Laue. The World Revolution of Westernization: The Twentieth Century in Global Perspective. New York: Oxford University Press, 1987. Pp. xx, 396. Cloth, $24.95. Review by Jayme A. Sokolow of the National Endowment for the Humanities. Marilyn J. Boxer and Jean R Quataert, eds. Connecting Spheres: Women in the Western World, 1500 to the Present. New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1987. Pp. xvii, 281. Cloth, $29.95; Paper, $10.95. Review by Samuel E. Dicks of Emporia State University. Dietrich Orlow. A History of Modern Germany: 1870 to Present. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1987. Pp. xi, 371. Paper, $24.33. Review by Gordon R. Mork of Purdue University. Gail Braybon and Penny Summerfield. Out of the Cage: Women's Experiences in Two World Wars. Pandora: London and New York, 1987. Pp. xiii, 330. Paper, $14.95. Review by Paul E. Fuller of Transylvania University. Moshe Lewin. The Gorbachev Phenomenon: A Historical Interpretation. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1988. Pp. xii, 176. Cloth, $16.95; David A. Dyker, ed. The Soviet Union Under Gorbachev: Prospects for Reform. London & New York: Croom Helm, 1987. Pp. 227. Cloth, $35.00. Review by Elizabeth J. Wilcoxson of Northern Essex Community College. Charles D. Smith, Palestine and the Arab-Israeli Conflict. New York: St. Martin's Press, 1988. Pp. viii, 308. Cloth, $35.00. Review by Arthur Q. Larson of Westmar College. Stephen G. Rabe. Eisenhower and Latin America: The Foreign Policy of Anticommunism. Chapel Hill & London: The University of North Carolina Press, 1988. Pp. 237. Cloth $29.95; paper, $9.95. Review by Donald J. Mabry of Mississippi State University. Earl Black and Merle Black. Politics and Society in the South. Cambridge and London: Harvard University Press, 1987. Pp. ix, 363. Cloth, $25.00. Review by Donn C. Neal of the Society of American Archivists. The Lessons of the Vietnam War: A Modular Textbook. Pittsburgh: Center for Social Studies Education, 1988. Teacher edition (includes 64-page Teacher's Manual and twelve curricular units of 31-32 pages each), $39.95; student edition, $34.95; individual units, $3.00 each. Order from Center for Social Studies Education, 115 Mayfair Drive, Pittsburgh, PA 15228. Review by Stephen S. Gosch of the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire. Media Reviews Carol Kammen. On Doing Local History. Videotape (VIIS). 45 minutes. Presented at SUNY-Brockport's Institute of Local Studies First Annual Symposium, September 1987. $29.95 prepaid. (Order from: Dr. Ronald W. Herlan, Director, Institute of Local Studies, Room 180, Faculty Office Bldg., SUNY-Brockport. Brockport. NY 14420.) Review by Herbert Janick of Western Connecticut State University.

BERNARDO BERTOLUCCI'S THE DREAMERS (2003): POLITICS OF YOUTH REMEMBERED Bertolucci's films have always been politically engaged. Undergoing psychoanalysis in the 1960s left him fascinated by dreams and their resemblance to cinematic sequences. However, he declared that he could not bring together his interests in politics and aesthetics. For me it's very difficult to succeed in mixing together the idea of beauty that I have as a moral fact and a reduction of reality in political terms, exactly because I think they are two irreconcilable things. (Cited by Purdon, 1971: 7) The Dreamers finally realised his long-standing ambition to make a film dealing with the events of Paris in 1968. Much more than a mere reconstruction of those events, this was to become the Bertolucci film that wove together sex, psychoanalysis, memory, dreaming, revolution and filmic style in a rich tapestry. Bertolucci always wanted to make cinema new and strange...

Introduction Amidst ecological collapse and environmental catastrophe, humankind is surrounded by indications that our habitat is turning against us in monstrous ways. The very environments we live within now evoke existential terror, and this state of ecological monstrosity has permeated popular media, including video games. Such cultural manifestations of planetary catastrophe are particularly evident in video game monsters. These virtual figures continue monsters’ long-held role in reflecting the socio-cultural anxieties of their particular era. The horrific figures that monsters present play a culturally reflexive role, echoing the fears and anxieties of their social, political and cultural context. Media monsters closely reflect their surrounding cultural conditions (Cohen 47), representing “a symptom of or a metaphor for something bigger and more significant than the ostensible reality of the monster itself” (Hutchings 37). Society’s deepest anxieties culminate in these figures in forms that are “threatening and impure” (Carroll 28), “unnatural, transgressive, obscene, contradictory” (Kearney 4–5), and abject (Kristeva 4). In this article I ask how the appearance of the monstrous within contemporary video games reflects an era of climate change and ecological collapse, and how this could inform the engagement of players with discourse concerning climate change. Central to this inquiry is the literary practice of ecocriticism, which seeks to examine environmental rather than human representation in cultural artefacts, increasingly including accounts of contemporary ecological decay and disorder (Bulfin 144). I build on such perspectives to address play encounters that foreground figures of monstrosity borne of the escalating climate crisis, and summarise case studies of two recent video games undertaken as part of this project — The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (Nintendo EPD) and The Last of Us Part II (Naughty Dog). An ecocritical approach to the monsters that populate these case studies reveals the emergence of a ludic form of ecological monstrosity tied closely to our contemporary climatic conditions and taking two significant forms: one accentuating a visceral otherness and aberrance, and the other marked by the uncanny recognition of human authorship of climate change. Horrors from the Anthropocene A growing climate emergency surrounds us, enveloping us in the abject and aberrant conditions of what could be described as an ecological monstrosity. Monstrous threats to our environment and human survival are experienced on a planetary scale and research evidence plainly illustrates a compounding catastrophe. The United Nations Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), a relatively cautious and conservative body (Parenti 5), reports that a human-made emergency has developed since the Industrial Revolution. The multitude of crises that confront us include: changes in the Earth’s atmosphere driving up global temperatures, ice sheets in retreat, sea levels rising, natural ecosystems and species in collapse, and an unprecedented frequency and magnitude of heatwaves, droughts, flooding, winter storms, hurricanes, and wildfires (United Nations Environment Programme). Further human activity, including a post-war addiction to the plastics that have now spread their way across our oceans like a “liquid smog” (Robles-Anderson and Liboiron 258), or short-sighted enthusiasm for pesticides, radiation energy, and industrial chemicals (Robles-Anderson and Liboiron 254), has ensured a damaging shift in the nature of the feedback loops that Earth’s ecosystems depend upon for stability (Parenti 6). Climatic equilibrium has been disrupted, and growing damage to the ecosystems that sustain human life suggests an inexorable, entropic path to decay. To understand Earth’s profound crisis requires thinking beyond just climate and to witness the interconnected “extraordinary burdens” placed on our planet by “toxic chemistry, mining, nuclear pollution, depletion of lakes and rivers under and above ground, ecosystem simplification, vast genocides of people” which will continue to lead to the recursive collapse of interlinked major systems (Haraway 100). To speak of climate change is really to speak of the ruin of ecologies, those “living systems composed of many moving parts” that make up the tapestry of organic life on Earth (Robles-Anderson and Liboiron 251). The emergency that presents itself, as Renata Tyszczuk observes, comprises a pervasiveness, uncertainty, and interdependency that together “affect every aspect of human lives, politics and culture” (47). The emergence of the term Anthropocene (or the Age of the Humans) to describe our current geological epoch (and to supersede the erstwhile and more stable Holocene) (Zalasiewicz et al. 1036–7; Chang 7) reflects a contemporary impossibility with talking about planet Earth without acknowledging the damaging impact of humankind on its ecosystems (Bulfin 142). This recognition of human complicity in the existential crisis engulfing our planet once again connects ecological monstrosity to the socio-cultural history of the monstrous. Monsters, Jeffrey Jerome Cohen points out, “are our children” and despite our repressive efforts, “always return” in order to “ask us why we have created them” (20). Ecological monstrosity declares to us that our relegation of greenhouse gases, rising sea levels, toxic waste, species extinction, and much more, to the discursive periphery has only been temporary. Monsters, when examined closely, start to look a lot like ourselves in terms of biological origins (Perron 357), as well as other abject cultural and social markers that signal these horrific figures as residing “too close to the borders of our [own] subjectivity for comfort” (Spittle 314). Isabel Pinedo sees this uncanny nature of the horror genre’s antagonists as a postmodern condition, a ghoulish reminder of the era’s breakdown of categories, blurring of boundaries, and collapse of master narratives that combine to ensure “mastery is lost … and the stable, unified, coherent self acquires the status of a fiction” (17–18). In standing in for anxiety, the other, and the aberrant, the figure of the monster deftly turns the mirror back on its human victims. Ecocritical Play The vast scale of ecological collapse has complicated effective public communication on the subject. The scope involved is unsettling, even paralysing, to its audiences: climate change might just be “too here, too there, too everywhere, too weird, too much, too big, too everything” to bring oneself to engage with (Tyszczuk 47). The detail involved has also been captured by scientific discourse, a detached communicative mode which too easily obviates the everyday human experience of the emergency (Bulfin 140; Abraham and Jayemanne 74–76). Considerable effort has been focussed upon producing higher-fidelity models of ecological catastrophe (Robles-Anderson and Liboiron 248), rather than addressing the more significant “trouble with representing largely intangible linkages” between micro-environmental actions and macro-environmental repercussions (Chang 86). Ecocriticism is, however, emerging as a cultural means by which the crisis, and restorative possibilities, may be rendered more legible to a wider audience. Representations of ecology and catastrophe not only sustain genres such as Eco-Disaster and Cli-Fi (Bulfin 140), but are also increasingly becoming a precondition for fiction centred upon human life (Tyszczuk 47). Media artefacts concerned with environment are able to illustrate the nature of the emergency alongside “a host of related environmental issues that the technocratic ‘facts and figures’ approach … is unlikely to touch” (Abraham and Jayemanne 76) and encourage in audiences a suprapersonal understanding of the environmental impact of individual actions (Chang 70). Popular culture offers a chance to foster ‘ecological thought’ wherein it becomes “frighteningly easy … to join the dots and see that everything is interconnected” (Morton, Ecological Thought 1) rather than founder before the inexplicability of the temporalities and spatialities involved in ecological collapse. An ecocritical approach is “one of the most crucial—yet under-researched—ways of looking into the possible cultural impact of the digital entertainment industry” upon public discourse relating to the environment crisis (Felczak 185). Video games demand this closer attention because, in a mirroring of the interconnectedness of Earth’s own ecosystems, “the world has also inevitably permeated into our technical artefacts, including games” (Chang 11), and recent scholarship has worked to investigate this very relationship. Benjamin Abraham has extended Morton’s arguments to outline a mode of ecological thought for games (What Is an Ecological Game?), Alenda Chang has closely examined how games model natural environments, and Benjamin Abraham and Darshana Jayemanne have outlined four modes in which games manifest players’ ecological relationships. Close analysis of texts and genres has addressed the capacity of game mechanics to persuade players about matters of sustainability (Kelly and Nardi); implicated Minecraft players in an ecological practice of writing upon landscapes (Bohunicky); argued that Final Fantasy VII’s plot fosters ecological responsibility (Milburn); and, identified in ARMA III’s ambient, visual backdrops of renewable power generation the potential to reimagine cultural futures (Abraham, Video Game Visions). Video games allow for a particular form of ecocriticism that has been overlooked in existing efforts to speak about ecological crisis: “a politics that includes what appears least political—laughter, the playful, even the silly” (Morton, Dark Ecology 113). Play is liminal, emergent, and necessarily incomplete, and this allows its various actors—players, developers, critics and texts themselves—to come together in non-authoritarian, imaginative and potentially radical ways. Through play, audiences are offered new and novel modes for envisioning ecological problems, solutions, and futures. To return, then, to encounters with ecological monstrosity, I next consider the visions of crisis that emerge through the video game monsters that draw upon the aberrant nature of ecological collapse, as well as those that foreground our own complicity as humans in the climate crisis, declaring that we players might ourselves be monstrous. The two case studies that follow are necessarily brief, but indicate the value of further research and textual analysis to more fully uncover the role of ecological monstrosity in contemporary video games. Breath of the Wild’s Corrupted Ecology The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (Nintendo EPD) is a fantasy action-adventure game in which players adopt the role of the games series’ long-running protagonist, Link, and explore the virtual landscapes of fictional Hyrule in unstructured and nonlinear ways. Landscape is immediately striking to players of Breath of the Wild, with the game using a distinctive, high-definition cel-shaded animation style to vividly render natural environments. Within the first ten minutes of play, lush green grass sways around the player’s avatar, densely treed forests interrupt rolling vistas, and finely detailed mountains tower over the player’s perspective. The player soon learns, however, that behind these inviting landscapes lies a catastrophic corruption of natural order, and that their virtual enemies will manifest a powerful monstrosity that seems to mirror Earth’s own ecological crises. The game’s backstory centres around the Zelda series’ persistent antagonist, Ganon, and his use of a primal form of evil to overwhelm a highly evolved and industrialised Hyrulian civilisation, in an event dubbed the Great Calamity. Hyrule’s dependency on mechanical technology in its defences is misjudged, and Ganon’s re-appearance causes widespread devastation. The parallel between Hyrule’s fate and humankind’s own unsustainable commitment to heavy industry and agriculture, and faith in technological approaches to mitigation in the face of looming catastrophe, are immediately recognisable. Visible, too, is the echo of the revenge of Earth’s climate in the organic and primal force of Ganon’s destructive power. Ganon leaves in his wake an array of impossible, aberrant creatures hostile to the player, including the deformed humanoid figure of the Bokoblin (bearing snouts, arrow-shaped tails, and a horn), the sand-swimming spike-covered whale known as a Molduga, and the Stone Talus, an anthropomorphic rock formation that bursts into life out of otherwise innocuous geological features. One particularly apposite monster, known simply as Malice, is a glowing black and purple substance that oozes its way through environments in Hyrule, spreading to cover and corrupt organic material. Malice is explained by in-game introductory text as “poisonous bogs formed by water that was sullied during the Great Calamity”—an environmental element thrown out of equilibrium by pollution. Monstrosity in Breath of the Wild is decidedly ecological, and its presentation of unstable biologies, poisoned waters, and a collapsed natural order offer a conspicuous display of our contemporary climate crisis. Breath of the Wild places players in a traditional position in relation to its virtual monsters: direct opposition (Taylor 31), with a clear mandate to eliminate the threat(s) and restore equilibrium (Krzywinska 12). The game communicates its collection of biological impossibilities and inexorable corruptions as clear aberrations of a once-balanced natural order, with Hyrule’s landscapes needing purification at the player’s hands. Video games are driven, according to Jaroslav Švelch, by a logic of informatic control when it comes to virtual monsters, where our previously “inscrutable and abject” antagonists can be analysed, defined and defeated as “the medium’s computational and procedural nature makes monstrosity fit into databases and algorithms” (194). In requiring Link, and players, to scrutinise and come to “know” monsters, the game suggests a particular ecocritical possibility. Ecological monstrosity becomes educative, placing the terrors of the climate crisis directly before players’ avatars, screens, and eyes and connecting, in visceral ways, mastery over these threats with pleasure and achievement. The monsters of Breath of the Wild offer the possibility of affectively preparing players for versions of the future by mediating such engagements with disaster and catastrophe. Recognising the Monstrosity Within Set in the aftermath of the outbreak of a mutant strain of the Cordyceps fungus (through exposure to which humans transform into aggressive, zombified ‘Infected’), The Last of Us Part II (Naughty Dog) is a post-apocalyptic action-adventure game. Players alternate between two playable human characters, Ellie and Abby, whose travels through the infection-ravaged states of Wyoming, Washington, and California overlap and intertwine. At first glance, The Last of Us Part II appears to construct similar forms of ecology and monstrosity as Breath of the Wild. Players are thrust into an experience of the sublime in the game’s presentation of natural environments that are vastly capacious and highly fidelitous in their detailing. Players begin the game scrambling across snowbound ranges and fleeing through thick forests, and later encounter lush grass, rushing rivers, and wild animals reclaiming once-urban environments. And, as in Breath of the Wild, monstrosity in this gameworld appears to embody impurity and corruption, whether through the horrific deformations of various types of zombie bodies, or the fungal masses that carpet many of the game’s abandoned buildings in a reclamation of human environments by nature. Closer analysis, however, demonstrates that the monstrosity that defines the play experience of The Last of Us Part II uncannily reflects the more uncomfortable truths of the Anthropocentric era. A key reason why zombies are traditionally frightening is because they are us. The semblance of human faces and bodies that remain etched into these monsters’ decaying forms act as portents for our own fates when faced with staggering hordes and overwhelmingly poor odds of survival. Impure biologies are presented to players in these zombies, but rather than represent a distant ‘other’ they stand as more-than-likely futures for the game’s avatars, just as Earth’s climate crisis is intimately bound up in human origins and inexorable futures. The Last of Us Part II further pursues its line of anthropocentric critique, as both Ellie and Abby interact during the game with different groupings of human survivors, including hubristic militia and violent religious cultists. The player comes to understand through these encounters that it is the distrust, dogmatism, and depravity of their fellow humans that pose immediate threats to avatarial survival, rather than the scrutable, reliable, and predictable horrors of the mindless zombies. In keeping with the appearance of monsters in both interactive and cinematic texts, monsters’ most important lessons emerge when the boundaries between reality and fiction, human and nonhuman, and normality and abnormality become blurred. The Last of Us Part II utilises this underlying ambiguity in monstrosity to suggest a confronting ecological claim: that monstrous culpability belongs to us—the inhabitants of Earth. For video game users in particular, this is a doubly pointed accusation. As Thomas Apperley and Darshana Jayemanne observe of digital games, “however much their digital virtuality is celebrated they are enacted and produced in strikingly visceral—ontologically virtual—ways”, and such a materialist consideration “demands that they are also understood as objects in the world” (15). The ecological consequences of the production of such digital objects are too often taken for granted, despite critical work examining the damaging impact of resource extraction, electronic waste, energy transfer, telecommunications transfer, and the logics of obsolescence involved (Dyer-Witheford and de Peuter; Newman; Chang 152). By foregrounding humanity’s own monstrosity, The Last of Us Part II illustrates what Timothy Morton describes as the “weirdly weird” consequences of human actions during the Anthropocene; those uncanny, unexpected, and planetarily destructive outcomes of the post-industrial myth of progress (Morton, Dark Ecology 7). The ecocritical work of video games could remind players that so many of our worst contemporary nightmares result from human hubris (Weinstock 286), a realisation played out in first-person perspective by Morton: “I am the criminal. And I discover this via scientific forensics … I’m the detective and the criminal!” (Dark Ecology 9). Playing with Ecological Monstrosity The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild and The Last of Us Part II confront players with an ecological form of monstrosity, which is deeply recursive in its nature. Players encounter monsters that stand in for socio-political anxieties about ecological disaster as well as those that reflect humanity’s own monstrously destructive hubris. Attention is further drawn to the player’s own, lived role as a contributor to climate crisis, a consequence of not only the material characteristics of digital games, but also their broader participation in the unsustainable economics of the post-industrial age. To begin to make the connections between these recursive monsters and analogies is to engage in the type of ecological thought that lets us see the very interconnectedness that defines the ecosystems we have damaged so fatally. In understanding that video games are the “point of convergence for a whole array of technical, cultural, and promotional dynamics of which [players] are, at best, only partially aware” (Kline, Dyer-Witheford, and de Peuter 19), we see that the nested layering of anxieties, fears, fictions, and realities is fundamental to the very fabric of digital games. Recursion, Donna Haraway observes in relation to the interlinked failure of ecosystems, “can be a drag” (100), but I want to suggest that playing with ecological monstrosity instead turns recursion into opportunity. An ecocritical approach to the examination of contemporary videogame monsters demonstrates that these horrific figures, through their primordial aesthetic and affective impacts, are adept at foregrounding the ecosystemic nature of the relationship between games and our own world. Videogames play a role in representing both desirable and objectionable versions of the world, and such “utopian and dystopian projections of the future can shape our acts in the present” (Fordyce 295). By confronting players with viscerally accessible encounters with the horror of an aberrant and abjected near future (so near that it is, in fact, already the present), games such as Breath of the Wild and The Last of Us Part II can critically position players in relation to discourse and wider public debate about ecological issues and climate change (and further research could more closely examine players’ engagements with ecological monstrosity). Drawing attention to the symmetry between monstrosity and ecological catastrophe is a crucial way that contemporary games might encourage players to untangle the recursive environmental consequences of our anthropocentric era. Morton argues that beneath the abjectness that has come to define our human co-existence with other ecological actors there lies a perverse form of pleasure, a “delicious guilt, delicious shame, delicious melancholy, delicious horror [and] delicious sadness” (Dark Ecology 129). This bitter form of “pleasure” aptly describes an ecocritical encounter with ecological monstrosity: the pleasure of battling and defeating virtual monsters, complemented by desolate (and possibly motivating) reflections of the ongoing ruination of our planet provided through the development of ecological thought on the part of players. References Abraham, Benjamin. “Video Game Visions of Climate Futures: ARMA 3 and Implications for Games and Persuasion.” Games and Culture 13.1 (2018): 71–91. Abraham, Benjamin. “What Is an Ecological Game? Examining Gaming’s Ecological Dynamics and Metaphors through the Survival-Crafting Genre.” TRACE: A Journal of Writing Media and Ecology 2 (2018). 1 Oct. 2021 <http://tracejournal.net/trace-issues/issue2/01-Abraham.html>. Abraham, Benjamin, and Darshana Jayemanne. “Where Are All the Climate Change Games? Locating Digital Games’ Response to Climate Change.” Transformations 30 (2017): 74–94. Apperley, Thomas H., and Darshana Jayemane. “Game Studies’ Material Turn.” Westminster Papers in Communication and Culture 9.1 (2012). 1 Oct. 2021 <http://www.westminsterpapers.org/article/10.16997/wpcc.145/>. Bohunicky, Kyle Matthew. “Ecocomposition: Writing Ecologies in Digital Games.” Green Letters 18.3 (2014): 221–235. Bulfin, Ailise. “Popular Culture and the ‘New Human Condition’: Catastrophe Narratives and Climate Change.” Global and Planetary Change 156 (2017): 140–146. Carroll, Noël. The Philosophy of Horror, or, Paradoxes of the Heart. New York: Routledge, 1990. Chang, Alenda Y. Playing Nature: Ecology in Video Games. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 2019. Cohen, Jeffrey Jerome. “Monster Culture (Seven Theses)”. Monster Theory: Reading Culture. Ed. Jeffrey Jerome Cohen. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 1996. 3–25. Dyer-Witheford, Nick, and Greig de Peuter. Games of Empire: Global Capitalism and Video Games. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 2009. Felczak, Mateusz. “Ludic Guilt, Paidian Joy: Killing and Ecocriticism in the TheHunter Series.” Journal of Gaming & Virtual Worlds 12.2 (2020): 183–200. Fordyce, Robbie. “Play, History and Politics: Conceiving Futures beyond Empire.” Games and Culture 16.3 (2021): 294–304. Haraway, Donna J. Staying with the Trouble: Making Kin in the Chthulucene. Durham: Duke UP, 2016. Hutchings, Peter. The Horror Film. Harlow: Pearson Longman, 2002. Kearney, Richard. Strangers, Gods and Monsters: Interpreting Otherness. London: Routledge, 2002. Kelly, Shawna, and Bonnie Nardi. “Playing with Sustainability: Using Video Games to Simulate Futures of Scarcity.” First Monday 19.5 (2014). 1 Oct. 2021 <https://firstmonday.org/ojs/index.php/fm/article/view/5259>. Kline, Stephen, Nick Dyer-Witheford, and Greig de Peuter. Digital Play: The Interaction of Technology, Culture, and Marketing. Montreal: McGill-Queen’s UP, 2003. Kristeva, Julia. Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection. New York: Columbia UP, 1982. Krzywinska, Tanya. “Hands-on Horror.” Spectator 22.2 (2003): 12–23. Milburn, Colin. “’There Ain’t No Gettin’ offa This Train’: Final Fantasy VII and the Pwning of Environmental Crisis.” Sustainable Media. Ed. Nicole Starosielski and Janet Walker. New York: Routledge, 2016. 77–93. Morton, Timothy. Dark Ecology: For a Logic of Future Coexistence. New York: Columbia UP, 2016. Morton, Timothy. The Ecological Thought. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 2010. Newman, James. Best Before: Videogames, Supersession and Obsolescence. New York: Routledge, 2012. Nintendo EPD. The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. Kyoto, Japan: Nintendo, 2017. Parenti, Christian. Tropic of Chaos: Climate Change and the New Geography of Violence. New York: Nation Books, 2011. Perron, Bernard. The World of Scary Video Games: A Study in Videoludic Horror. London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2018. Pinedo, Isabel. “Recreational Terror: Postmodern Elements of the Contemporary Horror Film.” Journal of Film and Video 48.1 (1996): 17–31. Robles-Anderson, Erica, and Max Liboiron. “Coupling Complexity: Ecological Cybernetics as a Resource for Nonrepresentational Moves to Action.” Sustainable Media. Ed. Nicole Starosielski and Janet Walker. New York: Routledge, 2016. 248–263. Spittle, Steve. “‘Did This Game Scare You? Because It Sure as Hell Scared Me!’ F.E.A.R., the Abject and the Uncanny.” Games and Culture 6.4 (2011): 312–326. Švelch, Jaroslav. “Monsters by the Numbers: Controlling Monstrosity in Video Games.” Monster Culture in the 21st Century: A Reader. Eds. Marina Levina and Diem-My T. Bui. New York: Bloomsbury Academic, 2013. 193–208. Taylor, Laurie N. “Not of Woman Born: Monstrous Interfaces and Monstrosity in Video Games.” PhD Thesis. University of Florida, 2006. 1 Oct. 2021 <http://ufdcimages.uflib.ufl.edu/uf/00/08/11/73/00001/taylor_l.pdf>. The Last of Us Part II. Naughty Dog. San Mateo, California: Sony Interactive Entertainment, 2020. Tyszczuk, Renata. “Cautionary Tales: The Sky Is Falling! The World Is Ending!” Culture and Climate Change: Narratives. Eds. Joe Smith, Renata Tyszczuk, and Robert Butler. Cambridge: Shed, 2014. 45–57. United Nations Environment Programme. “Facts about the Climate Emergency.” UNEP – UN Environment Programme. 1 Oct. 2021 <http://www.unep.org/explore-topics/climate-change/facts-about-climate-emergency>. Weinstock, Jeffrey Andrew. “Invisible Monsters: Vision, Horror, and Contemporary Culture.” The Ashgate Research Companion to Monsters and the Monstrous. Eds. Asa Simon Mittman and Peter J. Dendle. Abingdon: Routledge, 2013. 275–289. Zalasiewicz, Jan, et al. “Stratigraphy of the Anthropocene.” Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society A: Mathematical, Physical and Engineering Sciences 369.1938 (2011): 1036–1055.

The exploration of creative rhythmic drum patterns – many of which borrow from divergent musical styles – continues to be a focus for those at the vanguard of contemporary drumming. This performance-based study, submitted for the degree of PhD at the Elder Conservatorium of Music, University of Adelaide, looks at six representative pop/rock drummers who remain revered for their signature drum patterns. The drummers in question are Ginger Baker, Stewart Copeland, Sly Dunbar, Steve Gadd, Zigaboo Modeliste and Bernard Purdie, who reached arguably the high point of their creativity between 1965- 1992, each of them being celebrated for their absorption of cross-stylistic influences and imaginative use of techniques in the creation of new rhythmic patterns. Ginger Baker’s early recordings in the mid-1960s saw him combining African and jazz influences with rock/blues rhythms, establishing him as a pioneer in this field and creating a platform for other drummers to follow. This investigation highlights the prolific output of the above-mentioned drummers during this period, subsiding noticeably by the early 1990s due to the advancement of the drum machine and programming in the recording studio. Each of these drummers has in their own way profoundly shaped the direction of pop/rock music, and each of them constitutes a rich resource for the contemporary pop/rock drummer. The intention here is to expand the creative potential of these resources and recontextualise each drummer’s signature drum patterns so that we can speculate what Bernard Purdie’s patterns might be like if performed by Ginger Baker, Stewart Copeland, and so on. This kind of self-referentialism is pursued in the belief that not only does it give greater insight into each drummer’s technical and rhythmic syntax, but it leads to outcomes greater than the sum of their parts. The original source recordings have been analysed aurally and this process of aural analysis has led to the written explanations of techniques for each of the sixteen songs in tabular form. The analytical process has informed the synthesis of techniques in the author’s own recorded performances. The submission consists of a portfolio of the author’s own audio and video recordings supported by a dissertation.
Thesis (Ph.D.) -- University of Adelaide, Elder Conservatorium of Music, 2022

This chapter takes up a crucial debate between Christine Korsgaard and Bernard Williams on the subject of practical reason. Korsgaard argues that if reason can itself identify substantive ends for our actions, independent of our existing desires, then there is no genuine or distinct motivational problem about how reasons can move (rational) agents to action. In criticism of this, it is argued that when we sever the link between reasons and desires we encounter a problem about whether the internalism requirement holds for pure practical reasons. If Kantian ethical theory is to find some way to explain motivation, as it concerns pure practical reason, it needs to say more about this problem. Certainly it cannot evade it on the basis of the internalist assumption that pure practical reasons must be capable of motivating rational persons. Any assumption of this kind simply begs the question against the motivational skeptic.

The interrelationship between sexual and social revolutions in London in the 1890s shaped both the Irish dramatic revival and twentieth-century English drama. W. B. Yeats and George Bernard Shaw both embraced a socialism rooted in the radical eros of Percy Bysshe Shelley and developed by William Morris, Oscar Wilde, and Edward Carpenter. This “queer socialism” (the chapter acknowledges but departs from from Patrick Mullen’s earlier use of the phrase) was defined by its insistence on pleasure as the means and as the end of social progress. Yeats, Shaw, and John Todhunter—all Shelley enthusiasts, and all fascinated by Florence Farr’s bisexuality—contributed plays to a season that Farr produced at the Avenue Theatre. The opening night audience violently protested the double bill of Yeats’s Land of Heart’s Desire and Todhunter’s A Comedy of Sighs, in part because both plays mythologized the New Woman’s transgressive sexuality through occult representations of lesbian desire. Shaw moved to protect himself from homophobic condemnation by replacing Farr in the lead role of Arms and the Man with a more gender-conforming actress. After Shaw’s brilliant success, Yeats decided to pursue his dramatic career in Dublin, leaving Shaw to found a straightforwardly socialist dramatic revival in London.

Chapter 2 considers Lawrence’s early attraction to socialism and provides evidence that he intended to pursue a career in journalism from as early as 1908. It explores how his reading of A. R. Orage’s magazine the New Age shaped writing such as his paper ‘Art and the Individual’ (1908), which was revised and given the subtitle ‘A Paper for Socialists’ before it was sent to his correspondent Blanche Jennings, a socialist and suffragist who represented Lawrence’s ideal reader at this time. The chapter considers Lawrence’s early interest in the careers of writers now often classed as ‘middlebrow’ (partly due to their successful journalistic careers) such as G. K. Chesterton and George Bernard Shaw.

Pure cinema and the aesthetic of the fragment is applied to the evolution of sound design in the avant-garde experimental silent cinema of the late 1920s and early 1930s. The chapter argues that sound design and production were conceived as an integral part of pure cinema, tracing the emergence and development of this philosophy within the avant-garde experimentation with film form. Hitchcock articulates a philosophy of pure sound cinema in a number of critical pieces from the early 1930s and is clearly influenced by European philosophies of the early sound image. Sound is read as a discretized contrapuntal aesthetic form, achieving the abstraction of noise as patterned pitch (melodic), harmonic, and rhythmic form, in close analyses of Rear Window, The Birds, the imitation of Vertigo’s “Madeleine” theme in Pino Donaggio’s score for Dressed to Kill, and Argento’s cutting of a narrative segment of Deep Red to a standard blues I–IV–V harmonic progression. The chapter concludes with a study of Bernard Herrmann’s concluding sonic motif in Psycho as the purity of sound form in its atonal harmonic structure.

Kyungsoo Oh of Indiana University Purdue University Indianapolis devised (Organic Lett. 2009, 11, 5682) a new ligand that with Cu delivered predominantly one diastereomer of the Henry adduct 3, and with Zn delivered the other. Liu-Zhu Gong of the University of Science and Technology of China reported (Angew. Chem. Int. Ed. 2009, 48, 6503) the Darzens condensation of the diazoacetamide 5 with a variety of aldehydes to give the corresponding epoxy amides with high diastereo- and enantiocontrol. Michael J. Krische of the University of Texas, Austin, applied (Organic Lett. 2009, 11, 3108, 3112) his asymmetric allylation to a variety of primary diols including 7, leading to the homologated product 9. M. Christina White of the University of Illinois showed (J. Am. Chem Soc. 2009, 131, 11707) that Pd-mediated oxidative amination of carbamate 10 delivered the protected 1,3-amino alcohol 11 with high diastereocontrol. James P. Morken of Boston College devised (J. Am. Chem Soc. 2009, 131, 9134) a Pt catalyst for the asymmetric bis-boration of dienes. The allyl borane prepared from 12 added with high stereocontrol to benzaldehyde, to give, after oxidation, the diol 13. Carlos F. Barba III of Scripps/La Jolla optimized (Angew. Chem. Int. Ed. 2009, 48, 9848) an organocatalyst for the enantioselective conjugate addition of an alkoxy aldehyde 15 to a nitroalkene. Do Hyun Ryu of Sungkyunkwan University found (Chem. Commun. 2009, 5460) that an organocatalyst could also mediate the dipolar cycloaddition of a diazo ester 18 to an unsaturated aldehyde, giving 19 with high diastereo- and enantiocontrol. Francesco Fini and Luca Bernardi of the University of Bologna developed (J. Am. Chem Soc. 2009, 131, 9614) an organocatalyst that effected enantioselective dipolar cycloaddition of the nitrone derived from 20 to the unsaturated ester 21. Kevin Burgess of Texas A&M optimized (J. Am. Chem Soc. 2009, 131, 13236) an Ir catalyst for the enantioselective hydrogenation of trisubstituted alkenes such as 23. In the course of a synthesis of (+)-faranal, Varinder K. Aggarwal of the University of Bristol described (Angew. Chem. Int. Ed. 2009, 48, 6317) a one-pot procedure for the conversion of the allyl borane 25 into 27.

Forrest E. Michael of the University of Washington described (Organic Lett. 2009, 11, 1147) the Pd-catalyzed aminative cyclization of 1 to the differentially-protected diamine 3. Peter Somfai of KTH Chemical Science and Engineering observed (Organic Lett. 2009, 11, 919) that [1,2]-rearrangement of 4 proceeded to deliver 5 with near-perfect maintenance of enantiomeric excess. Tushar Kanti Chakraborty of the Central Drug Research Institute, Lucknow applied (Tetrahedron Lett. 2009, 50, 3306) the Ti(III) reduction of epoxides to the Sharpless-derived ether 6, leading to the pyrrolidine 7. Chun-Jiang Wang of Wuhan University devised (Chem. Commun. 2009, 2905) a silver catalyst that directed the absolute sense of the dipolar addition of 9 to 8 to give 10. Homoallyic azides such as 11 are readily prepared in high enantiomeric excess from the corresponding alcohol. Bernhard Breit of Albert-Ludwigs-Universität, Freiburg and André Mann of the Faculté de Pharmacie, Illkirch showed (Organic Lett. 2009, 11, 261) that Rh-mediated hydroformylation could be effected in the presence of the azide. Subsequent reduction delivered the piperidine 12. Jan-E. Bäckvall of Stockholm University applied (J. Org. Chem. 2009, 74, 1988) the protocol for dynamic kinetic asymmetric transformation (DYKAT) that he had developed to the cyanodiol 13. Remarkably, a single enantiomerically- pure diasteromer emerged, which he carried on to 14. Xiaodong Shi of West Virginia University found (Organic Lett. 2009, 11, 2333) that the stereogenic center of 17, even though it ended up outside the ring, directed the absolute configuration of the other centers of 18 as they formed. Jan Vesely of Charles University and Albert Moyano and Ramon Rios of the Universitat de Barcelona established (Tetrahedron Lett. 2009, 50, 1943) that an organocatayst directed the absolute configuration in the addition of 19 to 20 to give 21. Osamu Tamura of Showa Pharmaceutical University effected (Organic Lett. 2009, 11, 1179) cyclization of the malic acid-derived amide 22 to give 23 with high diastereocontrol.

The subject I am considering is the narrative partitioning that is present in the discourse of research communities within the humanities, in particular in the field of cultural anthropology and sociology. Narrative partitioning, when it concerns individual researchers, rests upon a fact that what is private expresses itself solely outside the official public scientific discourse. On the other hand, when the mentioned narrative partitioning concerns the research community, it manifests itself as a sort of abstention or narrative quietness – “the silence” of private (experiences’) histories; their removal into the shadow, or even their annihilation by the dominant narrative, accepting, for instance, only “the pure scientificity”, and warning against any confessional attempts, or simply excluding them. I try to demonstrate how the phenomenon of narrative partitioning may be analyzed using concepts (borrowed from Bernard J.F. Lonergan and much indebted to hermeneutics) of the horizon (in the metaphorical sense) and conversion, understood as a change of the horizon and a transformation in belonging to the scientific community (i.e. – as in the case of Thomas S. Kuhn – where the replacement of a research paradigm had much to do with religious conversion). Moreover, I employ some additional terms that describe narrative ways, introduced by a humanist scholar, of coping with the situation of living in two separate “worlds”: public and private. This very duality occurs particularly glaringly when, for example, official scientific discourse demands religious indifference (or what has already been known by the name of an anthropological atheism), while private discourse is based upon religious faith and religious participation which together carry a religious obligation to bear witness through narratives, especially in public situations. Therefore, the case of Mircea Eliade helps me to present difficulties in accepting his phenomenology of religion – transformed, as it is said here and there, in a kind of confession – experienced by much of the scientific world of humanists, including ethnologists. Moreover, this case reveals how the search for identity that oversteps common schemes and accepted norms, exposes one, in science, to rejection, and evokes an undeniable feeling of foreignness (or alienation). The case of Margaret M. Poloma illustrates what the researcher does when she wishes to avoid such a sense of foreignness (alienation) and narrative partitioning, when she, thus, wishes to preserve the unity of narratives in the world of academic sociology and in the private world of engagement (after her religious conversion) in Pentecostal movement. Both of the cases, like many similar situations, manifest the clash of communal standards of a value-free science, in particular “unseasoned” with religious notions – as in the case of anthropology or sociology – and life experiences of researchers, leading to moral tensions inside individuals as well as within research communities.

Diagnosis of Bernard-Soulier syndrome (BSS) is complicated by the difficulty of separating the giant platelets from other blood cells to pursue analyses of platelet function and structure. We report on the utility of three whole blood assay techniques for diagnosis of a patient with BSS. To our knowledge, these three techniques have not been simultaneously applied or compared for efficacy in laboratory diagnosis of BSS. (1) Whole blood platelet aggregation responses, studied with an electrical impedence aggregometer, were equivalent to those more laboriously obtained using platelet-rich plasma prepared by unit gravity sedimentation, studied with an optical light transmittance aggregometer. Platelet aggregation responses were normal with ADP or collagen stimulation, and absent with Ristocetin or bovine plasma stimulation. (2) Whole blood radioimmunoassay of platelet glycoprotein (GP) expression was performed using iodinated murine monoclonal antibodies HP1-1D (anti-GP IIb/IIIa) and 6D1 (anti-GPlb, kindly supplied by Dr. Barry Coller, Stony Brook, NY). After incubation with citrated whole blood, centrifugation was used to separate cell-bound antibody which was quantitated with a gamma counter. The patient’s whole blood had a normal level of cell-bound GP Ilb/IIIa, but a markedly reduced level of cell-bound GP lb (5% of normal mean; n = 20). (3) Whole blood smear immunocytochemical staining with the monoclonals (indirect immuno-alkaline phosphatase technique), and qualitative analysis by light microscopy, revealed a marked reduction of GP lb expression by the patient’s giant platelets, whereas GP Ilb/IIIa expression was normal. This latter technique might be especially valuable as a screening technique when the patient is not directly available for laboratory study. Together with the patient’s life-long history of thrombocytopenia and moderate bleeding diathesis, and other laboratory observations including markedly prolonged bleeding times and reduced whole blood prothrombin consumption, these data established diagnosis of BSS. We conclude that these three relatively simple assays of platelets in whole blood should be of particular value in the laboratory differential diagnosis of patients with congenital thrombocytopenias and giant platelet syndromes.